Khairul Ahsan Poems
No love is as overwhelming and as pristine,
As the maiden love of a lass, say of sixteen.
When, like closed petals of a bud she begins to unfold
Herself, blossoming into a fragrant rose or marigold.
She seeks a hand to hold and wants hers as well be held,
In secluded privacy, from the outside world as if shelled.
She wants to love and be loved, to touch and be touched,
Promises never to leave the hand that she fondly clutched.
Standing on the crossroads of childhood and puberty,
She seeks a soul mate, not one who is always flirty.
She feels lonely at ...
I wish I were a piece of blotting paper
That would soak tears from all the weeping eyes.
I wish my shoulders were broad enough
For all the mournful mortals to rest their heads on.
I know how bad it feels
To weep alone in a corner, unseen!
I know how difficult it is
To carry on with drooping shoulders.